I'll Be Seeing You
by Celtic Cat
Summary: The tenth in the Spike and Rose series. What can I say? You just can't keep a good villain down.
1. Chapter 1

Lady Faire

8

I know I have told some of you that I was going to stay away from the fanfiction and concentrate on my original stuff, but, what can I say? As the saying goes, you can't keep a good villain down.

Some of the characters are mine, but most, along with the groundwork was laid by the great and powerful Joss Whedon.

I'll Be Seeing You

Tanishad

Michael Goodhue had worked successfully if unspectacularly at Wolfram and Hart for a number of years now. His job was in the archives, which no one tended to notice unless something was out of place. He was good-looking, but not outstandingly so, the sort of person who could blend so completely into a crowd as to be nearly invisible.

On the whole, Michael preferred anonymity. He did his job competently, but never gave the extra effort that might mean a promotion, and thereby more responsibility. He had found his niche, and was content, if not happy.

Today, he was not in the paper archives, but the vaults, where were stored all sorts of talismans and spelled objects. It had been expanded considerably since Angel's tenure as CEO, because he insisted that all the truly dangerous things be locked away.

Michael had been doing inventory on these objects on a regular basis for years now, and he had no particular interest in them other than that they were where they were supposed to be, so how it was that this particular item caught his eye when he'd been checking it off his list for years, he couldn't say. But this time, prodded by an uncharacteristic burst of curiosity, he picked it up.

It was a bottle, about the size that would hold a quart, if it had contained fluid, and was made of what seemed to be, but probably wasn't glass.

There seemed to be someone, or something, inside it, and the most curious thing was that he, it, or whatever, seemed also to be alive.

Michael frowned. There was nothing resembling a cork, a lid or anything of that nature, so what kept the thing in there when it so obviously wanted out? Almost as if the creature could read his thoughts, Michael heard a murmuring coming from the container. He pressed his ear to the opening in an effort to hear better.

A string of nonsense words were whispered into his ear. A pause, then they were repeated. Michael murmured them back.

"Thank you, my unwitting friend." He patted the bottle almost affectionately. "I'm afraid I don't grant wishes, though. All I can give you is the prison cell they locked me in." He set the bottle down and smiled, and if anyone had been observing, they would have said that it no longer looked like Michael Goodhue, like his body had been taken over by someone else.

And they would have been right.

&

"Michael" as he would have to accustom himself to being called, finished out his day at work in the normal fashion. He had a number of things to do to set his plans in motion, and until he was ready to do so, he would remain inconspicuous. It was a tedious, tiresome job, but not difficult, especially with the knowledge he had ruthlessly wrested from the real Michael Goodhue's mind as the exchange was made.

He searched the other memories as well, who Goodhue had known, and how well he had known them. The people he worked with on a day to day basis. But there was on person he searched for in those memories more than any other, sure that once met, she could not be forgotten.

Rose.

&

"Hey Mum, have you seen my homework?"

Rose sighed. She thought the children were supposed to be the ones who dreaded schooldays. "Where did you have it last?" she inquired, making an effort to keep any sign of irritation out of her voice.

"Well..," Alaric scowled, trying to recall. "Last time I saw it was when I was doing it."

"Which was where?" Rose prompted gently, feeling a sudden desire to shake her beloved son until his teeth rattled.

"Derek's house," Alaric answered instantly. "While we were waiting for the rest of the guys to show up so we could practice the new song."

Before Rose could state the amazingly obvious, Alaric's cell phone rang.

"Yeah," he answered inelegantly. "Really? Cool. Meet me outside the gym with it, ok? Thanks, man."

"Let me guess," Rose said dryly. "That was Derek saying he had your homework."

"Thought I was supposed to be the mind reader," her son retorted, unabashed. "Is my lunch ready, Mum? I've got to get going." He gave her a quick peck in the general vicinity of her cheek in passing.

"On the counter," Rose replied wearily. She stiffened her spine. After all, that had only been Act I.

Ariel breezed into the kitchen, grabbed a mug of blood and bolted it down without even warming it up. She made a face.

"Ariel, darling, it only takes a few seconds to warm it up in the microwave," Rose pointed out.

"Seconds count." Ariel grimaced. "Did you sign my field trip permission slip? And have you got the money?"

"Yes, and yes." Rose handed over the required items. "You'd better hurry then, dear. Alaric is already on his way down. He has to meet Derek to get his homework."

Ariel shook her head. "It's a good thing his head's attached," she declared. Then she too, made her exit.

"Coast clear?" Spike's head appeared in the doorway. Early in the school year it had been deemed that it would be best for all concerned if Spike and his temper were not thrown into the before school chaos.

"Yes, love." Rose sank into a chair with a huge mug of coffee. The mug had been meant as a gag gift, but Rose had been delighted with it, and insisted on using it, even though it was so large that it nearly eclipsed her face when she took a sip.

Spike leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You look half done in already, pet, and the day not really started."

Rose gave him a wan smile. "I can relax when I get to my dusty research," she commented. "The pace is certainly less hectic than getting the children off to school."

Spike frowned. "They're thirteen years old," he stated unnecessarily. "They ought to be old enough to get their stuff together and get ready for school without running you ragged."

"Well, they did just start school a few months ago," Rose remarked, reluctant to admit that that particular sentiment had already occurred to her. "Maybe when they've had a little more time to acclimate."

Spike cocked his head and looked deeply into her eyes, sure that there were currents running below what was visible on the surface. "You'll have to cut the apron strings someday, babe," he said softly. "They're growing up, and there's nothing either of us can do about it." A glimpse of insight seemed to hit him, and he went around the table and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her out of her seat and into his embrace. "You're afraid that they won't need you anymore, aren't you, luv?"

Rose neither confirmed or denied the analysis, trying to conceal a sniffle.

Spike cuddled her closer. "Nothing will ever change the fact that you're their mum," he declared softly. "And maybe someday they won't need either of us anymore. But if we live until the end of the universe, I'll always need you."

He was answered by an audible sniffle and Rose snuggling, as impossible as it might appear, even closer.

Before things could get much more maudlin, or Rose could finally settle down to her own breakfast, the phone rang. With a sigh, she lifted herself away from the chair that her bottom had almost made contact with.

"Hello," she said with some trepidation, phone calls so often having been ill omens in the past.

"Sorry, Mum, it's just me," came her firstborn's voice. "I forgot to tell you, I'll be going to Derek's again after school today. Could you arrange for someone to pick me up?"

"All right," Rose agreed. "And Alaric, darling? Try not to leave your homework there tonight."

She had barely returned the phone to its cradle when it rang again. This, was actually starting to become routine, and Rose idly wondered if all adolescents were so absent minded.

"I forgot to tell you, Mummy." This time, of course, it was Ariel. "There's cheerleader tryouts after school tonight, and I was wondering..,"

"Cheerleading?" Rose had assimilated so well to being a human that most people forgot she hadn't always been one. But now, since her children had started high school, the confusion level was almost as bad as it had been when she had first worn a human body.

"Cheerleading?" Even in the kitchen, Spike heard and now he broke the let Rose handle it rule, seeing as how she was in foreign territory. "There is absolutely no way in bleeding hell that my daughter is going to be prancing around in front of a bunch of horny teenage boys in a skirt that leaves half her bum hanging out."

Rose, hoping Ariel hadn't caught it all, replied, "We can discuss it this evening, dear." She figured that would give Spike time to cool down and explain things to her.

"But the tryouts are today," Ariel wailed. "This is my only chance."

"Then perhaps," Rose answered, evenly but firmly, "missing the opportunity will remind you not to leave everything until the last minute." A trace of the irritation she'd been keeping a rein on began to become noticeable. "Really, Ariel, you can't expect us to make decisions like this on the spur of the moment all the time." Amidst her daughter's sputtering protests, Rose hung up the phone before she lost her temper and started sounding like Spike.

&

Alaric saw the expression on his sister's face and held out his hand. "Pay up," he said smugly. "I knew Dad would never fall for it."

"I knew that," Ariel replied, slipping a bill into her twin's hand. "But I thought I could get Mummy to okay it before Daddy had time to find out."

Alaric shook his head. "I still think that you'd have been better off working up to it gradually," he remarked. "Did you really want to that bad?"

Ariel shrugged. "I don't know, for sure. Maybe just to see if they're ready to start letting me make my own decisions."

Alaric cocked his head at her in a gesture that made him almost indistinguishable from Spike. "Are you sure you just don't want bunches of guys asking you on dates so you can try to forget that you're going to be stuck with Lindsey?"

&

"Good morning, Rose," Wesley greeted her automatically. Then, he really looked at her. "Good grief, we haven't even started working yet, and you look nearly done in."

Rose smile feebly. "Remember how I once said that what applied to normal children went double for Alaric and Ariel?" When her supervisor nodded, she went on. "And have you heard the phrase, 'just wait until they're teenagers'?"

"Is it really that bad?" he inquired, trying to inject a note of sympathy into his voice. "They're not bad kids, Rose."

"I never said they were," Rose replied, a bit defensively. "But it seems that since school started, they can't keep more than one thought in their heads at a time. If that. It's been almost two weeks since I haven't had both of them calling me from the lobby, or on their way to school about something they forgot." She sighed heavily. "It's just that from the moment they get up until they actually start school, it's all rush, rush, rush at the last possible moment."

Wesley nodded, seeing if not the whole picture now, then at least, most of it. "Have you ever thought of taking a personal day just to have some time to yourself, Rose?"

&

There was a mental argument going on as the twins started off to their first classes. They had early on decided to present a united front to society at large. Or, at least, the rest of the student body.

'I never said I was trying to forget about Lindsey,'

'I wouldn't blame you if you did,' Alaric retorted. 'I don't know what the 'aunts and uncles' were thinking about saddling you with him.'

'I'm sure we'll find out when they're ready for us to know,' Ariel replied frostily. 'Besides, he's sweet.'

'He's one of the bad guys,' Alaric pointed out.

'Used to be,' Ariel corrected him. 'He hasn't done anything bad in years now.'

'Only because Uncle Angel keeps an eye on him and doesn't give him any choice.'

'How do you know he wouldn't behave on his own?' Ariel demanded.

'Why are you so busy defending a guy that you're pissed off about being stuck with for the rest of eternity?' Having planted his final barb, Alaric ducked into his first period class.

&

Music wafted, and sometimes blared, through the entire Powers residence. Rose had simply filled the slots on the cd player with whatever had come to hand.

Right now, all that could be seen of Rose, had there been anyone there to look, were her hands, which held a book, and her head. Everything else was buried in a veritable avalanche of bubbles.

Rose was practically in heaven. She wondered why no one had told her about personal days before. Much as she loved Spike and the children, she hadn't really realized that she needed a little time to herself occasionally. She might have to make a point of doing this on a regular basis, she thought, reaching for her cooling coffee. She sighed. If there were just some way she could go to sleep here without fear of slipping down into the water and drowning, it would be perfect.

&

"Michael Goodhue" frowned mentally, although he took pains not to let the expression reach his face. He had made a special effort to find a plausible excuse to come to research only to find that Rose wasn't here. And he did not dare make it obvious that he was looking for her or in any way doing anything other than his job.

"Thank you, Mr. Goodhue," Wyndham-Pryce was saying. "I'll see that Rose gets those materials first thing when she arrives tomorrow morning. Luckily, her current project isn't a critical one. It can wait until she gets back."

"I hope she's not under the weather," "Goodhue" ventured tentatively. It was in keeping with the man's character.

Wesley smiled. "Not at all. She's just taking a personal day." He did not elaborate, so the reason for the smile was not apparent.

"Michael" seethed inwardly, but left. He just wasted a chance that only occurred a few times a month and had come up with empty hands, so to speak. He glanced at the time and the look of consternation was replaced by an evil smile. Lunch time. His own time. He could do as he pleased.

He was pleased to find out what Rose was up to.

&

Rose considered what to do with her book, and upon careful consideration, she tossed it gently to the other side of the bathroom. She didn't want to drip on it. Then, she pulled the plug, letting the now-tepid water gurgle down the drain. She made no move to dry off or leave the tub just yet, though. She was going to need a quick shower to rinse off the extravagant amount of bubbles, many of which were still clinging to her, or slithering down her body.

She started to draw the shower curtain when something made her freeze. She stood for a moment, all senses on the alert. She couldn't decisively tell that anything was wrong. Maybe she was just edgy about being alone. No sooner than the thought had occurred, when an unseen hand caressed her cheek.

Rose screamed.


	2. A Typical Day at the Office

Lady Faire

14

A Typical Day at the Office

Angel just barely made it to the elevator to the senior partner's suite as the door began to close. He held it as he spotted Wesley hurrying towards it as well, even though it earned him a glare from Spike.

"Okay, what's going on?" he inquired, once the elevator had begun its ascent.

"Ask the Watcher," Spike grated, glaring at Wesley. "I didn't even know Rose was at home."

"She took a personal day." Wes fought to keep from sounding defensive. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong.

"Calm down, Spike," Angel said firmly. "Right now we need to know what happened."

Spike looked in frustration at the slowly passing numbers above the doors, hating that this was still the quickest way to get to his beloved. He frowned, both in consternation and concentration as he dredged up the phone call that had sent him up here, giving orders to one of his men to call Angel and strongly suggest he do likewise. "Couldn't make much out of it 'cept that she was terrified, poor pet. I think I caught something about someone else being there too."

"I hope it doesn't turn out to be just another spider," Wesley commented. He thought about it and changed his mind. "On second thought, I hope that is all it is."

Spike shook his head. "I can tell when it's a spider," he stated in decidedly long-suffering tones. "Had enough practice at it, haven't I? Besides, it right threw me for a loop finding out she was at home 'stead of at work."

Even though the tension level, which had been climbing with each floor didn't noticeably dissipate, there was a collective sigh as a bell dinged and the door opened.

Rose, still dripping, swathed in a towel adequate for two or three people observed their entry just long enough to ascertain that they were friends and not foes.

Then, she flung herself into Spike's arms.

&

"Hey, Powers." The person addressing Alaric was nearly the stereotypical jock. It was the first time he'd even spoken to Alaric. "You get pretty good grades, don't you?"

"Enough to keep the 'rents off my back," Alaric answered cautiously. In his and Ariel's case, grades good enough to keep their parents off their backs were straight A's. But Alaric was being wary until he knew which way the wind blew.

The other nodded in a pretence of understanding. "That's what I thought," he commented. "Look, I forgot to study for today's test." Alaric didn't even have to read his mind to tell that was a lie. "So I need to copy off you."

"Nothing doing." Alaric edged away cautiously, trying to put space between himself and the hulk without the appearance of fear.

"It wasn't a request, moron," the jock stated. "I'm copying off your paper, and you're getting me a passing grade. It's that simple."

"It would have to be," Alaric rejoined thoughtfully. "What passes for your brain certainly wouldn't be able to handle anything complex."

A few of the gathering spectators snickered appreciatively. They liked someone with a little personal style, and Alaric certainly had that. But the way he was acting suggested to the audience that he also had a death wish. "Harmful" Harmon Bates was the star of the junior varsity football team, and used to getting what he wanted. And of showing his displeasure in the most painful way imaginable if he didn't get it.

"Was that a shot?" Bates demanded, starting to lose his temper. The fact that some of the people sniggering at him were girls did not help the situation.

"Are you really that stupid?" Alaric blurted out in disbelief. "'Cause if you are, you wouldn't be able to copy off my paper anyway. You have to be able to read."

"Powers, you are dogmeat," Bates hissed, shucking off his jacket as the onlookers backed off to give them some room.

For the record, Alaric was not the slightest bit afraid of Harmon Bates. He might be big and strong, but he wasn't vampire strong. And he wasn't particularly fast, even for a human. Not to mention that it had already been well established that he wasn't particularly bright. Alaric's dilemma lay in the fact that if he did kick this git's ass as easily as he thought he could, it would draw attention of an unwelcome nature to him. And being his father's son, he just couldn't bear the thought of dodging the fight and being considered a wuss. And while he had let his mouth lead a life of its own, he didn't think that was the main cause of his current problem. But be damned if he was going to let that waste of space get his good grade. He sized up his opponent, both physically and mentally, and came to a decision. He stepped up to "Harmful" until he was right up in his halitosis. For a long moment, nothing happened.

"Thought I was dogmeat," Alaric taunted. He really didn't want this, but he couldn't see any other way out. "It shouldn't be that hard, you're twice my size, (a slight exaggeration, but only a slight one). As an extra sting, he added, "That ought to really impress the girls, beating the crap out of a little guy."

Harmon blinked. Such thought processes as he had being exceedingly slow. He finally arrived at the conclusion that while beating up someone Alaric's size wouldn't exactly cover him in glory, backing down would be far, far worse. He gave Alaric a little shove, just testing the waters, as it were.

Alaric didn't budge.

The bully paused. Even that little love tap, in his experience, should have sent someone Alaric's size staggering back a few paces. The fact that it didn't bothered him. It also pissed him off. He'd show the sawed-off brainiac who was wearing a smirk that was just begging to be punched. Before he could make his muscles act on the thought, he was doubled up and on his knees, gasping for breath, while Alaric and his giggling entourage strolled away.

&

"I was just letting the water out of the tub," Rose was explaining. She was slightly more decent now, just, attired in a robe with her hair up in a towel. "Something just seemed.., not right, so I just stood there for a moment, listening." She paused to take a sip of her warmed-up coffee. "Then," she returned to her narrative, trying to keep a quaver out of her voice. "Just when I had about decided I was imagining things, I felt someone touch my face." A face which was, by now, milk-white from the horrified memory. "But there was no one there." Her voice departed altogether, and Spike, who had been hovering over the back of her chair like a sympathetic vulture, leaned down to hold her.

"I thought this place was warded for everything from spells to athlete's foot," Angel stated, getting upset on Rose's behalf. "So, what the hell happened to them?"

"Some types of wards have to be renewed periodically," Wesley explained, a little shame-facedly. "Since there's never been any real trouble in this apartment, we just never put priority on renewing the wards."

"Put those wards on priority now," Angel ordered. "Top priority. And while you're doing that, see if you can find out who or what was in here scaring the hell out of Rose."

&

As Alaric walked out of the building at the end of the day, three people converged on him. One, of course, was his friend and bandmate, Derek, with whom he was going home. The second was a guy named Justin from his science class, a member in good standing of the geek squad. The third, also of course, was his twin.

Ariel reached him first. "Are you terminally stupid?" she demanded. Before she could warm to her subject, she was interrupted.

Justin hadn't even heard Ariel, and was looking at Alaric almost as if he were in the presence of a deity. "I heard that you dropped "Harmful" Harmon," he crowed. "Man, you are freakin' awesome."

"I just sucker-punched him," Alaric admitted sheepishly. "The guy's seriously slow. Did you think I was just going to stand there and let him pound on me?" The last was said in defiant tones, and was pointedly aimed at his sister.

Ariel wavered between the desire to hit him and the desire to hug him. Finally deciding that neither would be cool, she settled for giving him a look that said they'd talk later. "I won't tell Mummy," she promised. "She'd probably have a stroke."

"Are you ready to go, or what?" asked Derek impatiently, totally unmoved by the drama of it all.

&

"You're late," Ariel observed, not showing the slightest bit of surprise at who had been delegated to pick her up. "Something come up at the office?"

Lindsey looked, and felt, somewhat less than comfortable. At first he'd been pleasantly surprised at being the twin's designated driver. At least, until all the bad news had been dumped on him. "Uh, where's your brother?" he stammered, stalling for time.

Ariel gave him a strange look. "He's gone to Derek's house, as usual," she informed him, and seeing from his expression it wasn't enough to produce enlightenment, added, "They're in a band together. They practice almost every day."

"Are they any good?" Somehow it seemed more difficult, having to tell Ariel without Alaric's thinly, or sometimes not so thinly, veiled hostility to shore up his spine.

Ariel shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "I haven't heard them yet." She looked at him quizzically. "You're not the usual driver, and you're awfully fidgety. So, what gives, Lindsey?"

&

"You going to be all right now, babe?" Spike inquired softly. "Or should I chuck it in for the rest of the day and stay with you?"

Rose found the notion extremely appealing, and seriously entertained it for one brief moment. Then, more than a little ruefully, she shook her head.

"I think I'd better get decent," she replied, rising to her feet. "This is starting to have the feel of an all hands on deck situation."

Wesley looked apologetic. "I hate to break into your personal day, Rose, but you're right. I could really use your help."

"Besides," Rose added. "I'd really like to find out just who it was that came in here and scared the bejesus out of me." With that remark, she left the room, presumably to get dressed, while Spike stared after her with his mouth open.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Angel and Wesley couldn't suppress a snicker.

&

"Have we given any thought as to what we're going to call ourselves?" Alaric asked of his band mates. "A band needs a name."

"How about 'Registered Sex Offenders'?" suggested the bass player.

Alaric buried his face in his hands.

&

"Well," Ariel remarked with a crooked little smile when Lindsey finished filling her in on the latest crisis. "I guess I wouldn't know what a quiet, normal life is anyway." It had taken considerable prompting to get the full story out of the tiny Texan. "So, why aren't we going home yet?"

"I'm under orders not to take you there until they let me know that all the wards are reinstated," the lawyer replied. "They must have thought it would take a while, because I've even been given company funds to take you guys out to dinner." He peered at the house in front of which they were parked. "At least, I'll take you guys to dinner if your brother ever decides to join us."

"He'll be out shortly," Ariel announced, having just received the news telepathically. "They were arguing over a name for a band, and he figured he'd better stick around if he wanted it to be something he could live with." Her face lit up. "Besides, there's a nice little Italian place not far from here that has the best fettuccine Alfredo."

"Did I hear someone mention food?" The rear door slammed shut as Alaric got in. "'Cause I'm starving."

&

"So, where would you like to go for dinner, pet?" Spike asked, as he relieved Rose of her briefcase.

"I don't know," Rose mumbled, looking perplexed. "In case it has escaped your attention, darling, I really don't have much experience with dining out. The children would probably have a better idea of a good place to eat than I do."

Spike was stymied as well. Rose was right. The kids, courtesy of assorted adopted aunts and uncles had gotten about more than their mother. But he wanted to take her somewhere better than a pre-packaged, fast-food joint. He glanced around in desperation, and found what he hoped was his salvation on this score. "Here, Lorne," he called out, catching the Pylean's attention as he was making his way to the door. "Know of any decent restaurants hereabouts?"

"Are you kidding?" Lorne joined them. "Spikester, you just hit the mother lode. There's hardly a place within a five mile radius that I haven't gotten indigestion at."

Rose beamed at him, and Spike hoped he was just kidding about the indigestion.

&

Lindsey sipped his glass of Chablis and watched his future brother-in-law in disbelief. "Where does he put it all?" he asked, in something akin to awe.

Ariel grinned. "We think there may be a portal in there somewhere," she replied. "The main thing to remember is keep well clear of his mouth when he's eating."

"I'm still a growing boy," Alaric mumbled through a mouthful of lasagna.

"Who are you planning to be when you grow up?" Lindsey queried. "King Kong? Besides, you're a vampire. You don't really need to eat at all, do you?"

"We still do, some," Ariel answered, seeing as her brother had just shoveled more lasagna into his mouth. "The doctors at Wolfram and Hart think it's because we're still growing, which is, after all, something most vampires don't do."

"True," Lindsey acknowledged. "But you don't eat like that."

"Of course not." Ariel got a haughty look on her face. "I have a girlish figure to maintain." Then, the facade dropped, and she laughed merrily. "I think it's just a gender thing, Lindsey."

&

Wesley dragged himself into Angel's office well past dark, and flopped unceremoniously into the nearest chair. "It's done," he announced. "The overtime for all those witches is going to cost quite a bit."

"And well worth the cost if it works," Angel pointed out. "You know I've never counted the cost where Rose and the kids were concerned, Wes."

"Just Spike, eh?" Wesley jibed, grinning.

Angel sighed, but otherwise ignored the question, which was probably rhetorical, anyway. "You're absolutely certain that all the wards that are supposed to be there are there?"

Wyndham-Pryce nodded wearily. "Nothing corporeal or incorporeal can enter the place uninvited without setting off dozens of alarms."

"Good." Angel picked up his cell phone. "I'll just call everybody and give them the all clear. He glanced at his head of research. "Why don't you pack it in for home and get some rest, Wes?"

"Thank you." Wesley yawned hugely. "I think I shall."

&

"Your parents would completely flip out if they heard about that," Lindsey remarked. Ariel had been moved to give him the embellished version of Alaric's fight, that being the only one she had heard. "Why didn't you just walk away?"

"And wear a sign saying wimp here, kick my ass, for the rest of high school?"

"You aren't going to tell them, are you, Lindsey?"

Lindsey got it from both directions at once. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "No, I'm not going to tell them." He figured the reassurance had better come first, not to mention, it might send his stock up a bit where Alaric was concerned. "But you've got a thin line to tread there, Tiger. If you seriously injured him, or just plain kicked his ass as easily as you probably can, well, people are almost certainly going to start asking questions. And most definitely not questions with easy answers."

"I know," Alaric retorted, scraping up the last of the sauce with a piece of garlic bread, (proving once again just what unusual vampires the Powers twins were). "That's why I sucker-punched him, and held back big time. Anyone could have done it. Hell, Mum could have done it."

Lindsey nodded thoughtfully. "Can't say I'd have done it any differently," he conceded. "I never did like being a doormat." He glanced at his watch. "The call hasn't come yet. Anyone up for ice cream?"

&

"You enjoy your dinner, babe?" Spike inquired, looking at the light of his unlife fondly.

"Very much, darling, thank you," Rose replied, wiping her mouth daintily. "But there's nothing really appealing on the desert menu. Do you think we have time to go get some ice cream?"


	3. Spell Checking

21

Spell Checking

"Michael Goodhue" propped his feet up and leaned back in the chair. The spell he'd used today had taken quite a bit

out of him. But it had most definitely been worth it. Rose in her bubble-clad glory. Truly, a sight to behold.

This very low profile was grating to him, even though he recognized the necessity. And by listening to the

conversations around him, he gleaned almost as much information as he did sifting through his host's memories.

Rose, amazingly enough, had children, even though she was still with the vampire. Twins, a boy and a girl, both said

to be nearly identical in appearance to their parents.

A plan began to for in his mind. Like it or no, Rose would be his. Her refusals still rankled. But the daughter, well,

she would have to be wooed gently, till she willingly gave herself to him.

Then, he would have them both, and all the power he ever wanted.

&&&&&&

Spike and Rose had just gotten her ice cream when a Texas accent nearby drawled, "Fancy meeting you here. Why

don't you drag up a rock?"

Their heads swiveled to see Lindsey and their offspring. Ariel, like her mother, was daintily nibbling a cone. Alaric

was engulfing an oversized banana split.

"Good heavens, Alaric," Rose exclaimed, almost automatically. "Did you even eat any dinner?" She was already

beginning to mentally prepare a lecture for Lindsey, and the twins. They were surely old enough to start taking some

responsibility for themselves.

"Yes, he did," Spike forestalled her lecture, and took the seat furthest from his children. "I can smell the garlic on him."

Lindsey blinked. "You know, I sat right there watching him put away the garlic bread, amongst other things, and it

never struck me as being weird." He sniffed experimentally. "I can smell the garlic too. So why isn't it bothering me like it is

you?"

"Because you're their kind of vampire." Spike pointed his chin at the young people. "The kind with a pre-installed

soul."

Understanding dawned. "That's why it couldn't be you or Angel?"

"I thought you knew that, Lindsey," Rose put in. Before she could elaborate further, her cell phone rang, and only fast

action on Spike's part kept her ice cream from hitting the ground. "Yes? Oh, hello, Angel. They are? That's good. You won't

have to do that, we met them at the ice cream stand, they're right here with us."

"I guess that's the all clear," Lindsey remarked, a little ruefully. He'd actually been enjoying himself.

Rose nodded. "Yes, they finally got all the wards back up."

"'Bout damn time, too," Spike grumbled.

"I guess you don't need me anymore then," Lindsey observed, rising, trying to be graceful about the disappointment.

"Guess again, lawyer-boy," Spike shot back. "If you think I'm sharing a car with a couple of people that reek of garlic,

you're out of your tiny little mind."

"And be sure to brush your teeth and gargle the minute you get home, too," Rose admonished gently.

The twins exchanged one of 'those' looks, while Lindsey stood there grinning.

&&&&&

"Michael" looked at the smoldering remains of 'his' tv set. He probably shouldn't have done that, he admitted within

the confines of his own mind. But how could anyone possibly enjoy that rubbish? He'd have to get a new one, though.

Mankind had changed, and the annoying box was a key to understanding those changes. He was limited in what he could glean

from his unwilling host's mind, he hadn't been able to take it all, and so he'd concentrated, in those few, brief moments during

the exchange, on what he needed to function as Michael Goodhue within the walls of Wolfram and Hart. Even here, there had

been some difficulties. He had never before been in a position where he had to prepare his own meals, and clean up after same.

He'd managed, though the food was a far cry from what he'd been accustomed to in his own life, or even during the short span

in which he had ridden along with the cultured Aubrey Morrison. And he suspected that the host memories aside, he hadn't

loaded the dishwasher properly, judging from the ominous sounds it made. He could have done it by magic, but he needed time

to build his strength after years of inertia.

Then, once he was back to his full strength, he would woo Ariel, and her capitulation would give him all the power he

wanted. After that, he would take Rose to be his as well, if for no other reason than that she'd had the temerity to refuse

Ahmed Al-Shere.

&&&&&

Rose was feeling restless, trying not to toss and turn lest it disturb Spike. Once again, she failed to take into

consideration just how attuned to her the center of her universe was.

"You're safe as houses, babe," Spike murmured sleepily in her ear, pulling her closer. "'Cause even if those wards don't

work, I'll be here to protect you, luv." He snuggled into her, and Rose, feeling reassured, snuggled back, and they both fell

asleep.

&&&&&

Ahmed Al-Shere debated within himself over expending the energy for another non-corporeal visit to the Powers

residence. The sight of Rose clad in nothing but bubbles lingered pleasantly in his mind's eye. Ruefully, he decided against it.

It would take time for his restoration, from both his imprisonment and what he had expended on his earlier foray. He was going

to have to learn more about living in this century. And, of course, he had a young bride to court. A frown creased his features.

Courtship had never been a needful thing for him in the long centuries past. Because of who he was, it was considered an honor

to gain his notice. It was utterly different now. He might actually need some advice on the matter of wooing young Ariel.

&&&&&

"I'm sorry, Angel," Wesley muttered from behind his coffee cup. He felt like he was running several years short on

sleep. "But we've checked and double-checked all the security cameras and alarms in or near the senior partner's suite, not to

mention casting a number of detection spells. We've found no concrete evidence of Rose's intruder."

"Are you saying that Rose just imagined it?" Angel demanded, feeling his temper begin to surge.

"No, of course not." Wesley looked at his boss a bit reproachfully, and came to the conclusion that he wasn't getting

enough sleep either. "I'm not saying that Rose doesn't have a lively imagination, but she sees enough horrors without wanting

to go and create more. Even subconsciously."

Angel felt the heat on his temper start to subside. He was, much as he hated to admit it (for form's sake, if nothing

else), almost as touchy on the subjects of Rose and the kids as Spike was. "No trace at all? Did you turn a psychic loose up

there?"

The researcher sighed. "I assure you, we left no stone unturned. The psychic picked up an unfamiliar energy pattern,

but that was the most we got out of anything we tried."

"Damn." Angel thumped his desk, gently, so as not to break it, again. "It can't ever be easy, can it?"

Wes managed a half-smile. "Why don't you ask Rose?" he suggested.

&&&&&

Ariel was in the restroom, trying to restrain her wayward hair once again. It was a constant battle, her hair just simply

refused to be confined in any way. One of her classmates joined her at the mirror and started primping.

"You know," the girl said almost too nonchalantly, between layers of lipstick. "Kirk Wisher likes you."

"Does he?" Ariel muttered. She could barely put a face to the name, and at the moment, she was far more concerned

with those few wispy little strands of hair that managed to escape from every coiffure.

"Girl, he is totally hot, and he had been giving you the eye," the other girl, Celia, that was her name, declared. "Are you

telling me you haven't even noticed?"

"Can't say that I have." Ariel sighed and did what she ended up doing every time anyway, just letting the wisps fly

where they may.

Celia started loading on eye liner with a vengeance. "Look, girlfriend," she declaimed. "I know this is your first time in

a public school. So I'm guessing you don't have a whole lot of experience with the opposite sex outside of your family. Am I

right?"

Ariel mentally ran over her prior 'experiences.' An embarrassing crush on her two and a half century old 'uncle'. Being

kidnapped by a demon determined to make her his bride. And of course, there was Lindsey, and the knowledge that she was

linked to the lawyer she herself had turned, possibly for all eternity. But adolescent courtship rituals? "I guess not, really," she

murmured. "The only guy my own age I've been around is my brother, and I wouldn't wish him on any girl."

Celia shrugged. "That's a sister thing," she observed sagely. "I have two older brothers, and I think they're horrible,

but they never seem to be lacking for dates. From my non-sister point of view, I've got to say that your brother is even hotter

than Kirk." A small sigh escaped from her lips.

Ariel did a quick scan on Celia's thoughts and found out that the girl's offer to take her under her wing stemmed not

from a desire for her friendship, but because she had a crush on Alaric. Ariel fought the urge to gag.

&&&&&

Ahmed Al-Shere was devoting a great deal of energy to keeping his host body's face set in impassive lines as he

methodically went through the boring task of checking off items on his inventory list. For each item, the list had a name,

description, catalog number, and a brief run-down of what it could be used for, and dates showing removals and returns from

the vaults. This list had dwindled to nearly nothing since Angel had taken over as CEO of the firm. For himself, Ahmed Al-

Shere could not believe having access to so many articles of power and not utilizing them, but rather to shut them up and leave

them to lay dormant for years upon years. Try though he might, he could make no sense of it. Why have the keys to so much

power and not use them? He already had a list of several very useful little baubles that he intended to liberate from this sterile

crypt. But not now, later. Patience had never been a virtue of his, but practice it he must, if he were to achieve the ultimate

power. Once he had attained his goal, patience would be cast aside with as little regret as he had disposed of the remnants of

Michael Goodhue. He went back to the next item on his list and sighed. Another example of a powerful device left unused,

locked in a hermetically sealed vault. He added it to the ever lengthening list in his head. Power was not meant to lie fallow

for years upon end. It was meant to be used.

&&&&&&

Wesley walked into Rose's office with, it must be admitted, the administrative paperwork, to see his exec sitting, hands

folded on the desk and eyes closed. Her demeanor was not that of someone sleeping at their desk, and indeed, Wesley knew that

Rose would have been appalled at the notion of doing so. That only left some form of self-hypnosis, or a meditative trance. He

hadn't gone to the effort to enter silently, so her concentration must be completely engaged. Wes fought a swift, silent

battle within himself. For the most part, Rose was one of the most sensible people he knew. But on the other hand her quest

for answers could, upon occasion, make her a bit reckless, especially if there was a possible threat to those she loved. Given that,

Wes decided to err on the side of caution and disturb her.

"Er, Rose?" he said, a little tentatively. When that produced no reaction, he have her shoulder a gentle nudge.

Rose let out a stifled yelp as her eyes flew open. "Oh, it's you, Wesley," she observed. She sounded calm enough, but

the start had caused her to turn three shades of pale.

"Exactly what were you doing, Rose?" the Watcher inquired. He'd decided he'd like a little information before

stumbling straightway into an apology.

"I was trying to remember exactly what happened yesterday," Rose replied, regaining her composure and some of her

color. "I knew you didn't find anything, Wesley, but I'm sure I didn't imagine it."

"And no one has accused you of doing so, Rose," he answered soothingly. "We all know you, and we know you're not

the sort of person who would invent some bizarre story just to get attention. And if you'll recall, the psychic we had at your

place did see an energy signature that didn't belong to anyone in your family." He grinned wryly. "I gather that the four of you

have rather distinctive auras."

"As you well know," Rose pointed out, a bit dryly, recalling her boss' experiments with a pair of magic goggles. "But I

was hoping I could recall something else, something that might tell us who or what it was."

"And did you?" Wes prompted, fully expecting the answer to be an unqualified negative.

"Well.., " Rose murmured slowly, her forehead wrinkling in consternation. "I just had a feeling that it was someone I knew."

&&&&&&

Alaric dodged throngs of milling bodies on his way to his least favorite class. P.E. It wasn't that he wasn't

athletically inclined, but he thought most of the games, most particularly football, were stupid. Besides, he had to put most of

his concentration into not drawing the wrong kind of attention to himself by moving too fast, reacting too quickly, or

performing feats of strength beyond the capabilities of his classmates. Given all that, gym was definitely the low point of his

day. If it wasn't a required class, he'd drop it in a hot second.

He changed as quickly as he could without drawing anyone's notice and made sure his books and street clothes were

locked securely in his locker. Harmon Bates was in his gym class too, and Alaric wouldn't put it past him to swipe his

homework. Or vandalize it and or his clothes.

Coach Peterson always started out with a series of calisthenic warm ups. Boring, but for Alaric, easy. All he had to

do was take care not to finish way ahead of anyone else. Once that was finished though.., well…,

"One, two, one, two..," The coach went through the class until he'd given them all a number. "Ones, shirts, two's

skins. Out on the field."

Oh great, Alaric thought. Football again. The mental groan this caused was accompanied by a sinking heart as he

realized that "Harmful" was on the other team, and looking right at him with a decidedly unpleasant expression on his face.

&&&&&

"All I'm saying," Angel explained with exaggerated patience as he dodged a blow from Spike's staff, "is that whoever

or whatever it is, is very good at covering its tracks. Other than that residual energy signature, we didn't turn up a damn

thing."

Spike made a wordless sound of disgust. "By the time I was allowed into my own home," he grumbled, swinging and missing, again, "I couldn't tell if there was any scent to be found after all the gits you had to-ing and fro-ing around up there."

Angel sighed. "Spike," he said in tones that suggested someone trying to explain quantum physics to a five-year-old. "There has to be a physical presence to leave a scent. Since Rose didn't see anything, then there couldn't have been any way for it to have left a scent."

"Bollocks." Spike threw down his staff in frustration. "How'n hell are we supposed to get a handle on the damned thing then?"

"Who knew that Rose was taking the day off?" Angel burst out suddenly. It had been the one thing that was amiss with the whole scenario, niggling at the back of his head.

Spike tried not to look impressed. "Wyndham-Pryce, of course, seeing as how he's her boss." He ticked off on one finger. "Me, 'cause she called me to let me know, just in case I popped up around lunch time for a..,"

"There's two of you," Angel cut his grandchilde off abruptly before he could finish the sentence. "And Wes told me. Did you tell anyone?"

Spike shook his head. "No reason to," he remarked. "What about you?"

"Uh-uh," Angel replied, rubbing his chin. "Corinna didn't even know, because she wasn't at her desk, and I took the call myself."

"Maybe some security bloke monitoring the calls," Spike mused aloud.

"Remotely possible, but not too likely," Angel rejoined. "We screen security more thoroughly than anyone else."

"Someone could've cast a spell," Spike suggested.

"Before we start spell checking the security staff, why don't we ask Wesley if he told anyone?" Angel advised. He started for the door.

Spike hurried after him, pulling on his shirt. "Why do you always have to shoot down all of my ideas?" he demanded.

"I don't shoot down all of your ideas, Spike," Angel shot back, stepping into the elevator. "Just the dumb ones."

21


	4. Reconnaissance

24

Reconnaissance

"Someone you know?" Wesley repeated stupidly. "Surely you don't think one of us is responsible, do you, Rose?"

"Of course not, Wesley." Rose smiled gently and shook her head. "But you have to admit that limited though my experience is, it still covers more than the people in this firm. And I have met some less than pleasant people."

"True enough," the Watcher conceded. "May I point out, however, that most of them are either dead or safely incarcerated?" Rose's remark had raised his hackles despite his very reasonable counter argument. And Rose, being who and what she was would almost assuredly always be a target.

Rose sighed, and pushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm well aware of that," she rejoined, a little dispiritedly. "But that feeling that I'd already met whoever it was before was very strong. And just because someone is locked away once doesn't necessarily mean that they'll stay locked away forever."

Wyndham-Pryce's stomach started churning up acid at this very valid point. "I believe Giles would have mentioned it to us if Ethan Rayne had gone astray again," he offered feebly.

"I'm sure he would," Rose agreed. "But aside from that, I don't think this was Ethan Rayne's style." Her face brightened momentarily as it often did when she remembered the proper colloquialism. "There's also Ahmed Al-Shere." The brief brightness washed away to be replaced by a faint greenish cast. The mere mention of the wizard-mage was enough to make Rose queasy.

Even Wes paled slightly at that thought. "Inventory of the vaults is going on right now," he muttered, reaching for his phone. "It won't take more than a moment to verify that Ahmed Al-Shere is still safely tucked away in his tanishad bottle." He looked at Rose quizzically. "I know he gave you quite a difficult time, Rose, but why Ahmed Al-Shere? You trapped him in that container yourself, and we're pretty careful about who we let in the artifacts vault. Why would anyone want to let him out?"

"I'm not sure." Rose's expression was pensive. "But given his previous predilections, it is the sort of thing that he might do. As for who might let him out, someone could do it unwittingly, merely out of curiosity."

"Most employees here have long since learned that that sort of curiosity can be fatal," Wes replied dryly. "Not to mention that access to the vaults where the tanishad container is stored is limited to a select few people."

"I suppose I could have been mistaken," Rose muttered insincerely. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed to her that Ahmed Al-Shere had somehow gotten out. And from the look she saw on her boss' face, it seemed that he might be beginning to think so too.

&&&&&&

Computer science was easily Ariel's favorite class, and probably would have been even if Oz hadn't been her teacher. But today, Oz, (or Mr. Osborne, as he was in class) seemed a little distracted. And the occasional glance he shot her way led her to the conclusion that it might have something to do with her. Given that impetus, Ariel decided to peek into her teacher's thoughts and found that he wanted a private word with her, so private that he didn't want to call attention to the fact by asking her to stay after class. Once she knew that, Ariel didn't probe further, but let Oz know that she had gotten the unspoken invitation and would be by after school. As an afterthought, she asked if he wanted to see Alaric as well, and got an unqualified affirmative.

&&&&&&

Angel and Spike checked Rose's office, and upon finding it vacant, decided to check Wesley's. They found the researchers engaged in a spirited discussion.

"I'm not saying your theory is totally impossible, Rose," Wesley was saying in placating tones. He never gotten as far as making his phone call. "I'm just pointing out that it is very, very unlikely."

"We deal with the unlikely on a daily basis here, Wesley," Rose reminded him. "And how much more unlikely could you get than my children? My whole human life has been extremely unlikely."

"Good point, pet." Spike commended as he gravitated towards her. He didn't know what the discussion was about, he just knew that hell or high water, he was on Rose's side.

Angel stifled a sigh. Spike and Rose always backed each other up, even, as far as he was concerned, to the point of idiocy. "Personally, I'd like to know what they were arguing about before I decide which side I'm on."

"Oh," squeaked Rose, startled. "It was just an intellectual exercise, really." Her tone was extremely unconvincing, but her eyes begged Angel and Wes to play along.

"Er.., yes, just as Rose says," the Watcher agreed, a little more convincing than his assistant had been. In an effort to steer the conversation elsewhere, he asked, "What brings you gentlemen here?"

"Wes, did you tell anyone that Rose was taking the day off yesterday?" Angel asked.

Wesley looked a little taken aback, like it was not at all the question he'd been prepared to answer. "Well, quite a few people, actually. I mean, our department sees quite a bit of traffic, and since Rose almost never takes any time off, everyone asked about her."

"Which means it was probably all over the bloody place within the hour," Spike muttered disgustedly. "Those gossiping wankers need to be getting themselves a life."

Angel was trying to refrain from the good hearty damn that his frustration demanded. He didn't want Wesley to feel he'd done anything wrong, when as a matter of fact, he hadn't. But it was damned inconvenient.

"Was it very important?" Rose asked, seeing the pent-up emotion in her friend's eyes.

"Just and intellectual exercise, babe," Spike assured her. "Isn't that right, Gramps?"

"Something like that," Angel grumbled in agreement.

"Perhaps we'd best be done with the mental sit-ups and get on with some actual work then?" Wesley suggested, trying to break the tension.

Since no one had a better suggestion, they did just that.

&&&&&&&&

A few minutes after the last bell rang, Alaric joined Ariel in Oz's classroom.

Oz blinked. He hadn't even gotten his end of the day paperwork together. "That was fast. Do you have a class at this end of the building last period too?"

Ariel answered for her twin. "Nope. But there are a lot of short cuts you can take when no one is looking." She winked.

Oz noticed Alaric was hovering more or less behind his sister, uncharacteristic behavior to say the least. "Alaric, this is mostly about.., oh holy cow." This last was said as a visibly battered Alaric hove into view. "What happened to you?"

"Gym class," Alaric replied sourly. "If you wanted to warn me that Harmful Harmon is gunning for me.., well, I kind of got the heads up on that, so to speak."

"Your mom's gonna flip her lid." The words came from Oz's mouth almost involuntarily.

"Do tell," Alaric groaned, leaning against the wall.

"Was that what you wanted to tell us, Oz?" Ariel inquired. It didn't really explain why their old nanny/tutor/friend had wanted to see both of them.

"That wasn't even on the list," Oz confessed. "But it may be a little complicated and take some time. Think your folks would have a problem with me swinging by later for a talk where no one from school is going to see or hear us?"

Both of the twins' eyes unfocused for a moment.

"Mummy says just come to dinner tonight," Ariel announced.

"And don't even think she'll take no for an answer," Alaric added before Oz could say anything, one way or the other.

&&&&&&&

"Spike, do you think you could surprise me every once in a while by not acting like a complete moron?" Angel snapped.

"I don't see how wanting to keep my nearest and dearest safe makes me a moron," Spike shot back. "At least I'm doing something, while all you can manage is to sit there with your thumb up your spotty, white ass."

Angel almost wished they'd gone back to the training room. He was feeling more than ready to work out some of his frustrations, and Spike was, to his mind, practically begging to be pounded on. "Tell me exactly what good it is going to do to put a guard on Rose against something that's invisible? Something that left so little trace behind that we could barely tell it was there?"

"So I'm just supposed to sit around and leave her unprotected?" Spike demanded.

"I'd be happy to provide her with any sort of protection she needs, Spike," Angel rejoined, visibly working at reining in his temper. "You tell me what she's in danger from, and I'll get whatever she needs to protect her. First, maybe we'd better establish whether or not she really needs to be protected. After all, whatever it was just shook her up. It didn't hurt her."

Spike glared at him. "Pardon me if I'd rather err on the side of caution where the woman I love is concerned," he snapped.

Angel slowly counted to ten inside his head, then ten more for good measure. Then, he sighed. "Have you been listening to even every other word I've said?" he queried, knowing full well the answer before he asked. He decided that nothing even remotely resembling subtlety would work here, so, he grabbed Spike by the lapels, and shook him in rhythm with his words. "How are you going to protect her? And what from?" He took extra care to make sure that Spike's head smacked against the wall a few times during the process.

Surprisingly enough, he got away with it. He wasn't sure if it was because what he'd been saying all along had finally started to seep down through the peroxide, or if he had just taken Spike by surprise.

"Bloody git," Spike snarled, carefully patting his hair back into place. "You know the shit that goes on in this place. You know the sorts that Rose seems to attract. What do you honestly think are the odds that everything is hunky-dory?"

"I never said that everything was all right," Angel replied in measured tones. "Or even that it probably was. But I just don't think that taking shots in the dark is going to help."

"Some kind of protection ward?" Spike suggested, and Angel heard the desperation in his voice, the fear for someone he loved more than anything on earth.

"We'll see what the witches have in stock," he promised. To be honest, he'd feel a lot better if Rose had some kind of protection, he just hadn't been able to think how to do it. Now, he had, if not the answer, then something that would do until it came along.

&&&&&

Wesley hung up the phone. "I just spoke with Michael Goodhue, who is the custodian of the vaults and currently doing an inventory," he announced to his audience of one. "And he assured me that the tanishad bottle is there, safe, sound, and occupied."

Rose didn't realize that she'd been holding her breath until it came out in a rush. "I was beginning to be sure that it was him," she murmured. "I'm so glad that it wasn't. Thank you, Wesley."

He flashed her a grin. "It was little enough to do to calm your fears on that front, Rose. And it also closed off one avenue of the search of who was in your flat. Two birds with one stone."

Rose's forehead suddenly wrinkled in thought, and the Watcher recognized the look and realized that he'd have to explain the saying to his assistant.

&&&&&

Ahmed Al-Shere snickered silently. Because the trusting fools had heard what they wanted to hear from someone they thought they knew, they assumed that all was well. At least, as far as he was concerned. Then, he paused for a moment, wondering what exactly had caused them to entertain the possibility that he had escaped his prison in the first place. He decided he needed more information than office gossip would provide. What he really needed was to hear what was going on in the research department. He went to a small, quiet place, far from "his" office, where he'd painstakingly, over a period of days cached a few supplies. Then he went about casting a spell of listening where it would do the most good.

No one was more surprised than he when a flurry of alarms and claxons announced that all hell had broken loose.


End file.
